


And I Feel the Hand of Fate (reaching out to both of us)

by Emrys MK (mk_malfoy)



Series: Merlin Episodes: AUs, Missing Scenes, and Inspired By [15]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Canon Era, Caring Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Oblivious Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), POV Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Sad Merlin (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:28:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27565288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mk_malfoy/pseuds/Emrys%20MK
Summary: At first glance it could very well appear to be just another ordinary day in the life of Arthur Pendragon—attending petitions; listening to Morgana’s sage, unsolicited advice; facing his father’s rebuke; righting a wrong with a dear friend; protecting his almost completely inadequate manservant, who has magic—but mysterious, seemingly unrelated developments converge to make for a decidedly unordinary day, and neither  Arthur or Merlin will ever be the same.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin Episodes: AUs, Missing Scenes, and Inspired By [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/640559
Comments: 38
Kudos: 193
Collections: Merlin Holidays 2020





	1. I've Been Searching for a Clue from You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The smart blue box (Jacobeth)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jacobeth/gifts).



> The smart blue box (Jacobeth), it took me a while to decide which prompt to use because each of them were warring with one another to get my attention, but once I chose one (Canon typical Arthur + Merlin adventure times), the story immediately revealed itself. I hope you like what I came up with. The happiest of Merlin Holidays to you!
> 
> Thank you, Katie, for being such an amazing beta and friend! 
> 
> This is set soon after 2X02: _The Once and Future Queen_.
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Thanks so much to the mods for another fun year of Merlin Holidays!
> 
> Story title and chapter titles are lyrics from _I Can't Hold Back_ by _Survivor._

Arthur was late. Very late. Late enough that his entrance garnered attention by most everyone. 

He chanced another glance at a maudlin, moping Merlin, who was decidedly not looking at him, and let out a string of words beneath his breath before sidling into his usual position beside Morgana, who glared at him.

As did his father.

Brilliant.

So this was the thanks princes were afforded these days for seeing to the well-being of their moody manservants who showed up late for work, bleary-eyed and upset.

Arthur put on a fake smile that said he was sorry and hadn’t meant to draw attention to himself, but it was unlikely anyone cared. Least of all his father, who returned his attention to Morris.

 _Morris_? Arthur was curious as to why his former manservant, who now worked for one of the newer knights, would have sought an audience with the king.

“What has Morris done?” he whispered (or tried to) as his father glared at him again.

“Shh,” Morgana chided. “Don’t give your father more reason to be upset with you.”

More reason? Arthur almost laughed. As if Uther Pendragon needed more reason to do anything. 

As it was, history dictated that Arthur was sure to be summoned to his father’s chambers as soon as this was over for a private dressing down in response to his inexcusable tardiness and whatever other indiscretions the king felt like berating his son for. 

What a fine mess this was. 

Arthur hadn’t set out to delay his morning by virtue of sitting his manservant down and all but forcing him to eat grapes, sausages, and bread. Nor had he been under any obligation to ask, whilst taking great care to not raise his voice, what was wrong with Merlin.

Yet Arthur had done these things— _for Merlin_ —and was the one about to be accused of acting careless from his father.

Sometimes life was not at all fair.

Arthur could easily put the blame where it belonged, and the king would punish Merlin, but Arthur would never implicate his manservant in such a way, ever—it was what _any good prince who was trying to prevent their adorably idiotic serving boy’s premature death by execution for being a sorcerer_ would do.

And it wasn’t as if fatherly chastisements were anything new—Arthur was more than accustomed to being made to feel as if he were a child—but he had to admit that recently his father had been particularly harsh with him, ever since the _Sir William of Deira incident_ , which had Arthur curious because, as far as he knew, very few people knew what had truly happened during those few days. Certainly, not the king. Or so Arthur had thought.

Arthur not-so-silently groaned at the mere idea that his father might know what his son had done (remained in Camelot and competed to prove that he could win on his own merits) and, for his most egregious indiscretion, Morgana gave him a slight shove and rolled her eyes.

Sometimes Arthur swore he saw his father in her. 

“Had you arrived on time, Arthur dear, you wouldn’t have to ask what was going on, but as you and Merlin couldn’t make it down here for the beginning of petitions, do allow me to fill you in,” Morgana said condescendingly, never taking her attention away from the king. “Apparently, Morris asked to have a private audience with Uther, but as your father is leaving midday, he requested Morris be the first petitioner.” She then put on a huge, faux grin and nodded vociferously at something Arthur’s father had said.

Arthur admired her adept acting skills. Morgana was sweet and had a heart as big as the world, but he knew a secret that few others did—she had perfectly cultivated a way to do and get what she wanted, especially from the king. Things had changed between the two since Guinevere’s father’s death, yet Morgana still tended to get her way more often than not. Arthur very much wished he could learn her ways.

“Morris told your father that his father is having financial difficulties and that he has worked in the royal household for more than twenty years and deserves more money.”

The king chose that moment to catch Arthur’s gaze again. He did not look pleased.

As Arthur had challenged his father enough for one morning, he attempted to concentrate on the discourse taking place with the next petitioner, but he couldn’t help but think about Morgana’s words. 

As far as he knew, Morris’s father had never complained or missed a day of work, other than the day his wife had died some ten years past, and the man was as faithful as they came. If he was having money troubles, that wasn’t good. 

Arthur thought the royal household were paid well.

But were they?

Maybe he should ask Merlin. 

_Good luck with that,_ he thought. Merlin was in no mood to be of any help at the moment. Hopefully Arthur could get to the bottom of what was bothering his manservant soon, because a sad, quiet Merlin just wasn’t right. Merlin was meant to be cheery and outspoken.

Arthur attempted to refocus his attention on Morris, who now stood off to the side, and tried to think of a way to find out if Morris and his father were making enough money.

“Okay, what’s that look for?” Morgana asked, her attention, of course, never leaving Arthur’s father. “You’re up to something.”

Arthur tried to ignore her. He was not up to anything. 

At least not yet.

####

As the king and his travelling party turned towards the gate to begin their journey, Arthur marveled at the sheer pageantry surrounding him as he stood on the bottom step, surrounded by a sea of red. Each time his father departed for a journey or returned from one, it was the same, a send off or welcome not to be rivaled. There was one difference this time, however. The weather, usually deplorable on these occasions, was ideal; the sky was beautifully blue, not a cloud in sight. His father and the others should make good time as they made their way away from Camelot and towards the far side of Essetir.

Under normal circumstances, Arthur would gladly welcome a week’s reprieve from his father’s glares and disappointment, but there had been suspicious activity in the surrounding wood recently—his father was convinced it was Odin’s men scoping out Camelot, which Arthur knew could be the case since it had been an assassin sent by Odin who had attempted to kill Arthur not so long ago—and that had everyone on high alert. 

If the king knew the true scope of events that had taken place during those few days when his son and Guinevere had shared living quarters, he would have never agreed to leave. 

Arthur felt guilty that he had lied—and continued to do so—to his father; his omission of important details had the potential to be disastrous, but the sharing of said details would most certainly have ended badly for all involved. 

The knights, guards, and sentries protecting Camelot were more than a formidable match for anyone and could handle anything put to them, but Arthur would rather their prowess not be tested when his father was away.

When reports of bandits in the area first arose, the king had attempted to delay his trip to meet with neighboring kings for peace talks, but as the weather would soon deteriorate, his options had been few and, in the end, without him knowing the ambit of a possible threat, his advisers convinced him that Camelot was well defended and his presence would be better served elsewhere.

“So are you going to tell me what’s going through that head of yours?” Morgana asked as she took her place at his side. “You look as if you are a thousand miles away. Does this have anything to do with why you were late this morning? Is everything okay with Merlin?”

Why was it that no one ever asked how _he_ was doing? Arthur mused, glancing to his right, where Merlin continued his brooding ways, looking like he had lost his best friend as he conversed with Guinevere. What was it about Merlin that had everyone fawning all over him, wanting to be sure he was well?

No one seemed overly concerned about Arthur, that was for sure. Not that he was bothered by such, but it would be nice every once in a while to know others cared. But he was the prince, and he guessed everyone assumed he was fine and didn’t need anyone’s concern. Perhaps they were right. They were most definitely right about Merlin. He deserved everyone’s care and concern.

Even Morgana’s.

Of course Morgana would ask about Merlin. Ever since their trip to Ealdor to help Merlin’s mother and the others defend their village against a brigand called Kanen, she had been on a mission to make Merlin and Arthur best friends. 

Arthur rolled his eyes. He would never understand her. “Your guess is as good as mine. I tried to get him to tell me what was wrong, but he wouldn’t. Merlin is a mystery to us all. You know that.” Arthur shrugged. Merlin wasn’t as much a mystery to him, of course, what with his knowing Merlin had magic and was actively hiding it, but a mystery, nonetheless.

Morgana harrumphed. “Perhaps if you stopped throwing things at him and started treating him a little better, he would confide in you. I still don’t understand why you dismissed his accusations about Cedric a few weeks ago. The two of you seemed to be making progress in the right direction before that. I talked with him yesterday morning. He seemed fine. Then, this morning, it was as if he had lost his puppy. You do know he was avoiding your gaze, right?” She paused and let out a laugh. “Never mind, of course you didn’t realise that. You never do realise these things, do you?” she added exasperatedly. “No wonder he is confused and upset with you. You are lucky he doesn’t leave and go back to Ealdor. It would serve you right.”

Arthur thought her words had been a bit harsh, though he probably deserved them. That didn’t mean he wanted to listen to such chastisements, however. 

“I don’t want to talk about Merlin, Morgana, but I do need to talk to you about an idea I have.”

She sighed as if she hadn’t the time to listen to anything else, as if Arthur was getting on her nerves. He understood because she was certainly getting on his.

“Okay, let’s hear it, but don’t think you can get out of this thing about Merlin that easily, Arthur. I want to know why he seemed fine yesterday but today he is all sad. You no doubt did something. I will find out, you know I will. I’ll ask him myself later. Or perhaps I should just ask Gwen. From what I hear, she and Merlin have started having lunch together every day.”

“It is none of your business, Morgana. Leave it,” he said, perhaps a bit more vitriol behind his words than intended, but Morgana deserved it. Merlin was _his_ manservant, not hers. She had no right to know anything that was going on. And why was she telling him about Merlin and Guinevere? “Now do you want to hear my idea or not?” Did he sound petulant? He guessed the answer was yes, but he really couldn’t be bothered to care.

Morgana’s glare disappeared. “Looks like I touched a nerve. Obviously, talking about Merlin is a sensitive subject with you. Very interesting, indeed,” she said, followed by a small chuckle. “Looks to me like you and Merlin need to talk.”

“What?” Arthur was tired of this game.

“Nothing, Arthur. Nothing at all. Well, do share your fabulous idea then. Inquiring minds want to know.”

Arthur was wrong-footed by Morgana’s surliness as well as her inappropriate possessiveness of Merlin, but he needed to attempt to let that go, at least for the moment. “My father has said he will consider increasing the amount of money members of the royal household make, but he thinks they receive plenty as it is. He’ll stall and nothing will get done, at least not anytime soon. He truly has no idea what these courtiers and other members of the staff face daily. What would you say to you and me doing an experiment to see what it’s like for them to live on a daily basis?”

He turned his head towards the departing retinue when a horse whinnied. His father looked resplendent in his long, flowy red cloak that covered his chain mail as his horse carried him away from the citadel. A group of knights surrounded him, shielding him from any unforeseen forces that might attempt to harm him. It was a spectacle to behold, and many of the town folk were waving, as if their king could see them.

Would that be Arthur one day?

The thought was unsettling.

“And just how do you propose we accomplish this?” Morgana asked, doubt in her voice.

“What if you stayed with Guinevere and I stayed with Merlin for the next few days?” he said carefully, well aware that he was probably about to hear exactly why his idea was ludicrous—he knew without doubt that Merlin would not like this plan—but it could end up getting him more money. Surely he would be okay with that. Right? 

Morgana wrapped her cloak tighter around her and looked thoughtful. “As much as I am for you and Merlin becoming better friends, Arthur, you must know he won’t thank you for this, right?” She inserted her arm through his as everyone began retreating into the castle. 

“I’ll deal with Merlin, Morgana,” Arthur said, wishing for her to go do whatever it was she did on a daily basis. She was adding to his already immense stress load. “He might not like the idea, but he’ll get over it. It would be better to observe Gaius—he would be far more interesting, and he would not be averse to this—but as he and Geoffrey are leaving this afternoon on some mission that my father has not seen fit to tell me about, Merlin it is.” 

“I think they are travelling to meet an old friend who once lived here. When I went to get my sleeping draught last night, Gaius told me it’s been thirty years since they’ve seen each other.” 

“They will have much to catch up on then,” Arthur said, thinking that thirty years seemed ancient, at least by his standards. What had life in Camelot been like thirty years in the past? 

Once they made it inside, Morgana removed her arm from Arthur’s. “While I agree that Gaius would be interesting to observe, Arthur, I’d much prefer observing Merlin. At least he won’t quiz you on what he has taught you.” Her eyes lit up at this and it reminded Arthur of days of yore, of a much more carefree Morgana.

Arthur laughed. “I’d forgotten about those famous quizzes of his. Those were awful, and I was hopeless at them. Do you remember Scott the rabbit? I don't think anyone could forget about him. I wonder if Gaius still has that rabbit’s foot.” Arthur guessed he did. The man did not get rid of anything.

Morgana rolled her eyes. “How could anyone forget Scott. To this day when I see a rabbit I turn the other way. And yes, I’m sure he still has the rabbit's foot, along with everything else he has ever owned; Gaius does not get rid of anything. His chambers are practically a museum.”

Arthur nodded.

“So let me get this straight, Arthur,” Morgana then said, changing her tone from light to serious, “you want me to ask Gwen if she will once again open up her house. As if she hasn’t just done this very thing.” She did not seem impressed in the least. “What if I ask Leon’s manservant’s sister? She works for Geoffrey. And pardon me if I am missing something here, but if we are doing this to find out what it is like for the servants on a daily basis, how are we to observe them serving us? Shouldn’t we observe other servants serving other nobles?”

Arthur pondered the suggestion about Morgana observing someone else because, well, she did have a point, but he would rather she stay with Guinevere. What the servants did during the day was not as big a mystery as was what they did after hours. He needed to know if they had enough money to get food and to get what they needed on a daily basis. He sighed and stared into Morgana’s eyes, pleading with her to just do what he wanted for once in her life.

It seemed her will was every bit as strong as his, but after several seconds she let out a put-upon sigh. “Fine, I’ll ask Gwen, but you owe me, Arthur,” she said shortly.

If Arthur had a coin for every time she had said these very words to him... “At this point I must owe you everything I have.”

Morgana smirked.

“Well, one day I am sure you will collect,” Arthur said dismissively. “I daresay Guinevere will be up for this little experiment. Unlike Merlin with me, she actually enjoys your company. And I am guessing that sh—” but Morgana interrupted him.

“Is that really what you think? That Merlin does not enjoy your company? Oh, Arthur dear, you have much to learn.” Morgana shook her head as if she were talking to a child.

“Wha— You know what? I don’t have time for your esoteric talk,” Arthur said, getting angry… again. She had a way of getting to him like no one else could. “If you have something to say, just say it.”

“It’s nothing to worry your little head about, so what were you saying?”

Arthur swallowed. One day he would learn to ignore her attempts to rile him. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I am sure Guinevere will feel more comfortable with you than she did when I stayed with her. It seemed a good idea at the time, but it really was inappropriate for me to stay with her. It’s a good thing my father never found out.”

“Yes, a good thing indeed.” Morgana sighed. “Knowing Uther, he would have accused her of enchanting you. And then he would have sentenced her to the pyre, _again_. That man is a mystery to me. He does love you, Arthur, I can tell he does, but I do wonder if he has it in him to appreciate anything else in this world. His sole aim in life seems to be to eradicate magic. I still can’t forgive him for what he did to Gwen’s father. It was so unfair.” 

Yes, that entire incident still kept Arthur up at night, worrying about what would happen if Merlin were caught. There was also the fact that Morgana had suffered her own indignation by being thrown in the cells for challenging the king's stance on sorcery. “Yes. Tom got himself caught up in things he had no idea about. I wish I knew why my father hates magic as he does.”

Morgana scoffed. “Probably because he doesn’t have it himself.”

Arthur knew she was joking, but it served a purpose as the mood instantly lightened. “I need to get to training or Leon will send the guard after me. Ask Guinevere what she thinks about you staying with her for the next few days. Don’t tell her why. Just say we are trying to get a better understanding of what the members of the royal household lives are like outside of the castle.”

####

Arthur knocked on Gaius’s door and wondered, not for the first time, why he cared so much about Merlin’s well-being when he certainly hadn’t spared many thoughts for Morris. Yes, he felt protective of his manservant because of his magic—that made sense, because as much as Arthur was leery of sorcery he did not want to see any harm come to Merlin for having it—but what was less clear was why it was so important to him that Merlin be happy and content, and in this particular situation, why he be okay with this plan for Arthur to stay with him for a few days.

Merlin had no say in it.

Only, he did. Merlin's job on a daily basis was to see to Arthur’s needs and, to that end, he had no choice, but this—Arthur impeding on Merlin’s personal space—was not in the _manservant-job-description_ and, if staying with Guinevere had taught Arthur anything, it was that he should not invade someone’s space when they were uncomfortable with said arrangement. 

Guinevere had been a wonderful hostess and had made the best of a difficult situation, but Arthur knew he had bullied his way into her home. Yes, things had worked out in the end, perhaps too well, but somehow Arthur did not think that his and Merlin’s differences would culminate in a kiss.

And why had he even had _that_ thought.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and returned his thoughts to Guinevere.

Earlier that morning she had asked to speak with him. Of course it could be about any number of things, but Arthur had an idea it was about the kiss, or at least their relationship, if one could even call it that. They hadn’t been avoiding each other recently, but it did seem that as the days passed, their interactions were more strained. It was all so very wrong and did not sit well with Arthur, therefore he had been happy Guinevere wanted to talk. Unfortunately, he had been on his way to see his father, so he had asked to meet later. As soon as he left Gaius’s, he would find her and hear what she had to say.

Part of Arthur wanted everything to be fine and for them to continue seeing each other whenever they could—Guinevere was good for him and he very much liked the idea of being in a relationship because it seemed as if everyone else around his age was married—but another part of him wished the kiss had never happened and that they could forget about it and carry on as they had before. 

He was confused and didn’t understand why. Not so long ago he would have been positively giddy at the prospect of being in a relationship with someone. 

By most everyone's standards—Leon's, to be exact—Arthur was a late bloomer when it came to the more intimate activities that should be undertaken by young men of his age, but on his last journey to a nearby kingdom, more than a year in the past, Arthur at long last discovered the pleasures another human could give him when he had been on the receiving end of the most deliciously satisfying attentions of a man, and he now had a taste of the joy and happiness he could have with a woman. Both experiences had been quite to his liking, so why was it that Arthur no longer found the idea of searching for someone to spend the rest of his life with (or even just finding someone to satisfy his needs in the present) appealing? It made no sense.

Gaius opened the door, thankfully interrupting Arthur’s increasingly morose thoughts.

“Sire, to what do I owe the honour of this visit?”

“It’s about Merlin.” Arthur entered the small room and had a seat at the table. Merlin was not around—hopefully he was doing chores that Arthur had set for him—a bit of good fortune that would make this talk with Gaius so much easier.

Gaius’s brows furrowed as he brought over a bowl of grapes and set them on the table. “Hm. What about Merlin? Has he done anything wrong?”

Arthur shook his head and thought it sad that Gaius’s first thought was that Merlin was in trouble. It was a bit too reminiscent of how his father often thought regarding him. “No, he’s not done anything wrong, I can assure you. I do have a few questions to ask, however,” Arthur said casually, now wondering why he was here talking to Gaius when it was Merlin he should be speaking to. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say but now felt somewhat foolish. But he was here now, Gaius looking at him expectantly.

“I’m listening,” Gaius said, that familiar brow lifting into his hairline.

“First, I need to ask your permission to stay here and observe Merlin for the next few days. Morgana and I are worried that the royal household are not being compensated adequately. Perhaps if we could observe those who work for us, we would get a better sense of this.”

Gaius took a seat and steepled his hands on the table as he studied Arthur intently, reminiscent of days long past, when Arthur sought the court physician’s counsel. “As you already know, sire, you do not need permission, but since I know you seek it, it is Merlin you should ask.”

Arthur nodded. Well, that was two questions answered in one. “I don’t wish to pry,” he then said nonchalantly, but it was immediately obvious that Gaius did not believe him. “Okay, yes, I do wish to pry. Something is bothering Merlin, and if you could shed any light on that, I would be grateful.” 

_Did you know that Merlin can stop time_ was what he had wanted to say, but as he didn’t know if Gaius knew about Merlin’s magic, he’d wisely decided to forgo that one. 

Gaius stood and walked over to his work bench before looking back at Arthur. “Again, sire, I am not the one you need to ask. Even if I knew, I couldn’t tell you. As it is, I do not know.”

“Do you think—” but Arthur’s question was interrupted when Geoffrey entered, a knapsack over his shoulder. 

Arthur stood. It was time for him to take his leave. “Thank you, Gaius, I’ll talk to Merlin.” He then looked over to Geoffrey and nodded.

####

“Prince Arthur!” someone called out.

Arthur turned towards the voice and couldn’t help but grin. It was William, the farmer they had found to be _Sir William of Deira_ for the jousting tournament a fortnight past. 

He, Guinevere, and Merlin had made up some cockamamie story that the knight was on a quest of self-discovery and that he had found Camelot to be a quaint place to do some serious introspective study, so he was taking a leave of absence from Deira.

“Sir William!” Arthur replied gleefully. “How goes the self-discovery?”

“Well, sire,” the faux-knight said confidently, but when he was standing beside Arthur, his facade fell away. He appeared sad. “My stay in Camelot has been eye-opening, sire, but I think the time has come for me to take my leave. If your father were to find out my true identity, he would not look kindly on such deception.”

Arthur nodded. It was for the best, really, it was. What had he been thinking, asking this person to stay on in Camelot? It had been unsafe then, and it remained dangerous to this day. But Arthur did not wish to see William leave. He was a breath of fresh air. Much like Merlin, and Arthur had grown fond of both. More fond than he wanted to admit. 

William was fun and made sure that Arthur did not take life too seriously, and he and Merlin had become very good friends.

“I’d rather not make a scene, sire. Could you tell Merlin and Gwen and the others I’ve left?”

Oh no. Arthur was not about to get himself in trouble. “That would be a resounding no, William. If you want to go off and leave everyone without telling them goodbye, I cannot stop you, but I will not make excuses for you.”

William looked around and sighed. “Merlin was right, you are a right prat,” but the coy grin gave away the faux-knight’s true thoughts. “I’ll find Merlin and the others and say my goodbyes then.”

Arthur nodded. “Perhaps they will be able to change your mind.”

William shrugged. “I can’t let them do that, but hearing you say such a thing makes me happy, sire. I’ve never had much, but for the first time in my life I truly feel as if I belong somewhere.”

“Then don’t leave.” Arthur didn’t see the problem. Well, yes, he did, but if they were careful, It would be easy enough for them to protect William’s true identity. He, Merlin, and Guinevere would just need to be extra vigilant.

“I’ll think about it,” William said, but Arthur knew that his new friend was only saying such for his benefit. “I won’t leave without seeing you first.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Arthur replied, thinking how quiet it would be without William around. He watched him walk away, then turned to go meet Guinevere, but she was walking towards him, waving to William.

“He has to go do some things,” Arthur said distractedly, attempting and failing miserably to hide his nerves about what Guinevere had to say to him. “It is a bit cold out here. Let’s go talk inside.” Arthur felt his hands perspiring and tried to calm himself. It didn’t work.

Once inside they made their way to the throne room so they could have some privacy. Arthur motioned for her to sit down, and he sat across from her. 

She didn’t look at all sad or nervous as she had earlier, so that was good. Right? Arthur was a bundle of nerves. What was she going to say?

Guinevere took a deep breath. “I’ve rehearsed this, sire, so please do not interrupt me.” Her genuine smile lit up the room and somewhat set Arthur at ease.

He wisely remained silent and answered with a curt nod.

“I know that I said maybe one day things would be different for us, sire, but realistically, I think we have to accept that at the moment they are not, and that neither of us had any business kissing. Yes, I admit to getting caught up in the moment. This handsome prince was standing before me and had poured out his heart to me the night before. It just felt right.” Her eyes darted between him and a point on the wall opposite.

And just like that, Arthur's nervousness left him. This was Guinevere he was speaking to, and she was by far the easiest person in all of Camelot to talk to. She had always had the ability to make one feel at ease with her. 

He smiled, or attempted to, feeling an immense weight lifting. This was not settled yet, but Arthur felt better about where things were going. It took him a few seconds to gather himself, but when Guinevere returned her attention to him and smiled, it put him at ease. “I also admit to getting caught up in the moment, Guinevere. It is rare that anyone tells me what I need to hear—everyone tells me what they think I want to hear—and I appreciated your honesty. I allowed myself to get lost in that and I wanted more of it. You invited me into your home and no matter that what happened was consensual, it was an abuse of my position. Please accept my sincere apology.” It appeared as though Guinevere was about to interject something, but Arthur wasn't finished and he needed to get this out. Now. “Erm, so, do you think we can move forward as friends? I would hate to think that this has ruined a friendship.” 

Guinevere reached across the table and covered Arthur’s hands with her own. “There is no need to apologise, Arthur, and do you even need to ask if we can remain friends? We have known each other the whole of our lives, and I genuinely care for you as a dear friend, Arthur. Now let’s move forward and leave this where it belongs. In the past. Great things are in your future and we need to concentrate on those.”

Arthur nodded, relieved that this was over, but now that he wasn't so nervous he thought that Guinevere didn't seem as carefree and happy as he had initially thought. Had she seemed a bit sad as she said that last bit about his future? But maybe it was just his imagination playing tricks on him. She wouldn’t have said what she had if she had not wanted to. Or would she have? 

Arthur really didn't know what to think, but what he did know was that it was not for him to question her, at least not at this time. She had said these things to him and he had to believe that they came from her heart and she meant them. 

Letting go of his doubts, Arthur nodded, somewhat awed as he was reminded, yet again, how extraordinary Guinevere was. The fact that she even spoke to him was a feat that amazed him. Had her father ordered his father's death not so many months in the past, he wasn't so sure he could be as forgiving.


	2. There's A Story in My Eyes

Arthur’s door opened, but the mindless chatter that usually accompanied Merlin’s entrance was absent. Not at all unexpected, of course, but disquieting all the same. Arthur considered his options as he glanced at Merlin, who seemed to be preoccupied with his thoughts: ignore him or once again ask what was bothering him.

Not that it mattered. Arthur was quite sure that whichever he chose would be the incorrect option; years of training from his father had taught him this lamentable life lesson. He sighed and decided discretion was the better part of valour, ignoring the voice of Morgana in his head calling him a coward as he attempted to return his attention to packing for his stay with Merlin.

“Would you like me to pack for you, sire? I am sure you don’t know what you’ll need for a few nights’ stay with me,” Merlin said sarcastically as he closed the door with his foot, walked over to the table, and set down the basket filled with freshly laundered clothing. His death glare was scarily reminiscent of the king’s, and Arthur reluctantly admitted to himself that he was impressed.

Outwardly, however, Arthur rolled his eyes, because that is what he did when Merlin made a stupid comment. But, really, this one had not at all been stupid, and it had been deserved. “Gaius talked to you then?” 

Merlin’s fake grin was his reply.

“Morgana and I thought this would be a good time to find out how our servants lived. Just a bit of an experiment. Think of it as just another of our many adventures. At least you won’t have to cook over an open fire.” Arthur grinned but guessed it was a wasted attempt at levity.

“How kind of you to point that out, sire. Makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. You’ll want to be sure to bring an extra warm tunic to sleep in. I know you prefer to sleep only in your breeches, but my room is a bit colder than your princely sensibilities are accustomed to.” Merlin rolled his eyes and scoffed, and it was impossible to miss his complete irreverence.

Such impudence should be called out, and most of Arthur very much wanted to, but he held his tongue. He was, after all, insinuating himself into his manservant’s life for the next few days. 

“Did you have plans that I am messing up, Merlin? If so, I guess we could do this some other time,” Arthur said as he retrieved a tunic that should keep him warm enough at night. He had no intention or desire to reschedule, but if Merlin was going to be such a girl’s petticoat about this, maybe it was best.

“No, no, sire, you’re already packing. By all means, continue. Don’t mind me. Not that I was looking forward to a few evenings to myself now that Gaius has gone for the week. I’ll just do that some other time.”

“I should have asked you if this was okay before I made plans to make myself home at Gaius’s for the next week, Merlin. That was not very considerate of me, was it?”

“It’s fine, sire, I just have a lot on my mind.” Merlin was now folding each piece of clothing with a fierceness Arthur had rarely seen in him.

“Anything you want to talk about?” Arthur knew the answer but had to ask.

Merlin stopped folding, looked at Arthur for several seconds, as if contemplating Arthur’s question, but he shook his head. “It would help if I could talk to you about it, sire, but no.” And with that he went back to folding the clothes.

Well, that was far more than Arthur had expected. “If you should ever want to talk, I hope you know that you can tell me anything without fear of me sharing, or judging. I may be an inconsiderate prat—your words, not mine,” he said grinning, wishing to see a smile from Merlin, “but I know how to listen. Morgana talks my ear off on a daily basis.” Arthur was pleased to see that his efforts elicited a small grin from Merlin. 

“Thanks, Arthur,” and the genuine smile that followed did wonders for Arthur.

Arthur continued packing, taking care to keep a close watch on Merlin. He understood that he had all the power in this relationship and could wield it any way he wished to, but he had no desire to force Merlin to do anything. Ever. He did so very much wish Merlin would share his secret with him though. But why would he when such could get him killed?

Arthur knew his father would have Merlin sent to the pyre without a second thought.

Therefore it was up to Arthur to do everything in his power to keep Merlin safe. He had grown much too fond of the boy to let him be killed.

When Merlin left sometime later without so much as a word, Arthur wondered if Merlin was truly okay with him, but he had no time to think about that because someone knocked on his door. When he said enter, Morgana opened the door and asked if he was busy. It occurred to Arthur that he should begin asking who it was at the door before granting them entrance—what if someone broke into the castle and overtook the guards at the entrance to his rooms? But that was a thought for another time. He shook his head and motioned for her to enter.

“I passed Merlin on the way up here, and he didn’t look very happy,” she said as she took her usual place at the table and grabbed a handful of grapes. “I gather he is not looking forward to the two of you playing house?”

“Morgana, we are not playing house. I am, as you are, undertaking a serious experiment.” Arthur was busy and irritated, but as Morgana most likely had no intention of making this a brief visit, he decided the rest of his packing could wait. He joined her at the table.

“Pity, that. A little _playing house_ where you and Merlin are concerned would not be remiss.” She popped a grape into her mouth and rolled her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, Arthur. I just mean that you could use a friend. Just because your father is wound up like a loom, doesn’t mean you need to follow suit. You do deserve to have friends, you know.”

And what was Arthur meant to say to that? Yes, of course he deserved friends—he and Leon were friends, after all, although he wasn’t sure if that counted because Leon was a knight—but he had made such a huge mess of things with Guinevere, who had been a true friend to him. Maybe he had been so happy to have her as an adult friend (as children they had been friends, but weren’t all children who played together friends?) that he had mistaken that feeling for something more. Perhaps not, but he was so confused about everything. But what he did know was that it was probably best he not get too close to anyone else lest he once again allow his thoughts to think things they had no right thinking. 

He had already allowed himself to get much too close to Merlin.

Arthur grabbed a handful of grapes. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready to go to Guinevere’s?”

“Already did that. I just wanted to let you know that you were right. Gwen is looking forward to me staying for a few days.”

“Of course she is. Guinevere is a gracious host,” Arthur said with a wistful grin. What he wouldn't give for Merlin to be the same. For once. That wasn't asking too much, was it? 

“Yes. That she is. The fact that she hosted you for a few days is proof enough of that, and whilst I agree that you staying with her was probably not the best idea we have ever had, I think it did you some good. It was beneficial for you to see how she lives, _even if it was not enough for you to grasp how she truly lives_ , which means you need me to stay with her now and find out.” 

At this Morgana let out a put-upon sigh and shook her head exasperatedly, all of this of course in the spirit of ribbing him for asking her to stay at Guinevere’s for a few days. It was classic Morgana, and all Arthur could do in response was simply let her be all dramatic; it was what she did best, after all. 

“Yes, well, you are constantly reminding me how oblivious I am, aren't you?” Arthur replied flippantly.

“Well, you are,” she responded haughtily. “But getting back to your stay with Gwen, though she has shared nothing of what the two of you discussed, Arthur, I am quite sure she set you straight on a few things. Our Gwen is as sweet as they come, but I can’t imagine you could stay with her for more than a day without sticking that foot of yours in your mouth. Am I right?”

Arthur thought about denying it, but when had he ever been able to get one past Morgana? “Maybe.” And no, despite what Morgana was most assuredly thinking, he was not pouting. 

Morgana stood and grabbed another handful of grapes. “Do try to be a bit more respectful around Merlin. I do not want you to upset him further than he already is.” 

Arthur barely resisted rolling his eyes. “It would be nice to have someone be as concerned about my well-being as everyone seems to be Merlin’s.” He really had not meant for that to sound as churlish as it had. 

He watched as Morgana walked towards the door. She let out a little laugh. 

“Don’t worry, Arthur dear, you have Merlin. Just as you would do for him, he will move heaven and earth to be sure you are never hurt.” She then looked back and grinned. “Have fun!” And with that she was gone. 

####

It was with a small—okay, huge—amount of trepidation that Arthur knocked on Gaius’s door not long after the bells rang, signalling the closing of the gates. He hoped Merlin had mellowed out a bit but guessed that was wishful thinking.

Merlin didn’t even ask who it was before he opened the door. Arthur thought about saying something about being more vigilant, but the sour look on Merlin’s face changed his mind. 

“Did you know William is leaving, sire?” Merlin asked, little to no emotion in his voice as he took the knapsack from Arthur and set it on the workbench. 

“Yes. Did he say when he would be leaving?” 

“Mid-morning. Do you want to know why he is leaving?” Merlin sat down at the table and looked towards the window, not at Arthur. “Did your father tell you that he and William had a meeting the other day? I found out last night.”

Arthur wasn’t sure if he was meant to reply. “No, he didn’t tell me anything about that.” But at least Arthur was beginning to understand the possible reason Merlin had been in such a foul mood all day. 

“It seems that your father wants Sir William to relocate here permanently and become a knight of Camelot.”

“Oh,” was about as eloquent a response as Arthur could muster. It was what he had feared since the day his father had invited William to dine with him. 

“Yes, oh, indeed,” Merlin said in little more than a whisper. But then he looked at Arthur and sighed. “Just last week William said how much he was looking forward to settling down here for a while.”

And just like that another piece of the puzzle fell into place. Or so Arthur thought. What if Merlin and William were more than friends? It wasn’t as if Arthur was privy to what Merlin did in his personal time. It would make sense.

“I’m sorry, Merlin.”

Merlin shrugged and cleared his throat. “It’s okay. It’s not like I’ve not lost friends before.” Merlin stood, grabbed Arthur’s knapsack, and took it to his room.

There was a knock at the door.

“Arthur? It’s Leon,” said the familiar voice from the other side of the door. 

Arthur was immediately on high alert. There was only one reason Leon would be here after dinner. 

There was trouble. 

But the warning bells were not going off, so that was good. Arthur hoped. He opened the door and beckoned Leon in.

“I apologize for interrupting you at this time of the evening, sire, but one of the sentries spotted someone trying to enter the west gate. When they went to investigate, they couldn’t find anyone, but with recent activities, we should go out and see if anything is amiss. I’ve already gathered a group. Do you want to accompany us?”

“Of course I do,” Arthur said before yelling out at Merlin and telling him he’d be back later. He followed Leon out the door and let all thought of Merlin fall away.

It hadn’t been an overly cold day, for him, that is, but Morgana had shivered through his father’s departure ceremony (chain mail and the knight’s cloak were far more suited than frilly, ornately decorated frocks to cold weather.) In the intervening hours, however, the temperature had dropped drastically, and now it was downright frigid as Arthur hurriedly made his way towards the stables.

Lucky for the knights about to go out on patrol, they kept cloaks in the stables, and their chainmail offered extra protection, but at this time of night all Arthur had on was a tunic. He wished he had time to don his chain mail, but that would take time that he didn’t want to waste. His father would insist he take the time, and, really, Arthur shouldn't ride out unprotected, but just this once he should be fine.

Their horses were already saddled—Arthur made a mental note to speak to the new stable boy called Tyr tomorrow and thank him for his attention to detail—therefore, once they donned their cloaks and left, it took no time to make their way to the edge of the Darkling Wood.

They searched for over an hour but found no evidence of activity. Arthur wanted to believe this meant the guard had made a mistake but guessed it was more likely that whomever had attempted to gain entry had fled once they discovered their path forward would get them nowhere. Even if the perpetrator had been nearby, the light from the flambeaus would have given ample warning long before Arthur and his knights made their way to the wood.

“Sire, perhaps a few of us should remain out here to patrol,” Leon said as he continued looking around, searching for any anomaly, no matter how small. “I would feel better if we did that.”

Arthur agreed. It would do no one any good, other than the bandits or whatever it was that was causing trouble for Camelot, to let their guard down. “Sir Brennis, Sir Cador, and Sir Geraint will continue patrols overnight. At first light I want the regular patrol to replace them. I will join after my meeting with the council.” Everyone nodded, and Arthur turned around to make one final pass of his flambeau around the area to see if he could find anything suspicious.

After Leon and the three knights exchanged words, he, Arthur, and the others began their return to the citadel. Arthur listened to the others talking but kept to himself, not much in the mood for conversing. 

He was second-guessing his decision to not tell his father that the assassin had actually made his way into Camelot and had very nearly succeeded in killing him. If anything bad happened to the knights on patrol or to anyone in Camelot, it would be Arthur’s fault. 

“How are things with Merlin?” Leon asked as he caught up with Arthur. “He didn’t look too well this morning.”

“He’s as inept as ever,” Arthur said automatically, grinning, but he knew his smile wasn’t quite reaching his eyes. Thankfully, he knew Leon would understand and leave it. 

Often Arthur made snide comments whilst on patrol about Merlin to the other knights, with Merlin hearing it all—it was just part of the camaraderie between everyone—but it was all in good fun and was never serious.

This was very serious, and Arthur knew that Leon understood that Arthur wouldn’t talk about Merlin’s state of mind to anyone, not even one of his closest friends. But he was happy that everyone seemed to genuinely care for the boy from Ealdor who had barged into Arthur’s life with a vengeance, without apology.

They arrived at the stables, and Arthur dismounted without a word, watching as Tyr led his and Leon’s horses away.

“I’ll see you at the council meeting tomorrow morning,” Leon said as he removed his cloak and draped it over the fence for Tyr to get when he returned. Then he was gone, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts, which were all over the place. 

As Arthur approached the entrance to the tower where Gaius’s chambers were located, the guard on duty nodded and looked curious, and Arthur wondered if he was going to ask him anything. Fortunately, he did not, but Arthur had no doubt that by morning the entire guard would know that the king’s son was staying at Gaius’s.

Arthur really should have thought that one out better. But it was too late now. He ascended the steps and began to knock but decided not to since Merlin didn’t lock the door.

He walked into a silent, dark room, the only light coming from a flambeau and a candle in Merlin’s room. Merlin was asleep on Gaius’s bed. Arthur wondered if he were truly asleep, or simply ignoring him, but when he heard tiny snores, he sighed. 

So much for getting to the bottom of what was bothering Merlin.

Arthur shivered as he put out the flambeau and looked over at Merlin, whose only cover was a light blanket. Arthur thought he must be cold—it had been Merlin, after all, who had warned Arthur that he would need a warm tunic to sleep in—but as he didn’t see any other blankets near, he guessed Merlin would be fine.

Once in Merlin’s room Arthur removed his sleeping clothes from his knapsack, thankful that Merlin had told him to pack something warm to sleep in, and got ready for bed. He wasn’t at all tired but, as there was nothing else to do, he guessed he’d try to fall asleep. But as he turned back the covers his gaze fell on the closed window and he could see the moon beams as they shone through the slats.

He went over to the window, opened it, and looked out. Thatched roofs flickered as the light from the fires warming the houses lit them. It was such a serene scene, and Arthur found himself wondering what the families in each of the little houses were doing. Were there mothers telling their children a bedtime story? Were there men smoking a pipe as they relaxed after a hard day’s toil? Was there a newborn baby in one of them, their parents looking at it as if it was the most precious thing in the world?

Over the years, when Arthur had been on night patrol, as he rode past these very houses, he had so very much wished he could be a part of one of those families. He knew that not all of the homes were filled with happiness—everyone had their problems—but he saw proof on a daily basis how much love there was within the walls of Camelot. Just that morning he had seen a mother tending her little girl who had fallen and scraped her knee. The exchange had been tender and warming. And when the child had let out the tiniest of smiles and hugged her mother, Arthur’s heart had both rejoiced and hurt. 

He had never had that and never would.

He wiped his eyes before closing the window. Dwelling on things that had and never would be did no one any good. He cleared his throat and climbed into bed. With a little luck maybe he could get a good night’s sleep. He doubted it—Merlin’s bed looked and felt only marginally more comfortable than sleeping on the hard earth—but Arthur’s day had been one to forget, and he wished for nothing more than for a lovely dream to figure prominently for the next several hours.

As he listened to the nearby nocturnal fauna, he allowed it to lull him into a calmness that would hopefully soon have him in the land of nod.

Sometime later, Arthur was awakened by what he thought to be talking. That was odd. Who would be talking in his room? Had Merlin stayed the night in the antechamber? 

But no, wait. That wasn’t right. 

Arthur yawned as he sat up and looked around. He wasn’t in his room, was he? He was at Gaius’s, sleeping in Merlin’s bed. So then who was talking? Arthur got out of the bed and stretched. He glanced towards the window and guessed not much time had passed since he’d fallen asleep. He looked back towards the door that led to the main chamber. Was it Merlin who was talking?

He opened the door and noticed that Merlin was still lying down, but he was tossing and turning, and speaking to someone who was not there.

“No, I don’t want to go. Please don’t make me. I want to stay where I am.” Merlin was tossing and turning more violently now. “Will already left me. Please don’t take Arthur away from me.”

Merlin’s voice was increasing in volume with each word, and he was greatly agitated.

Arthur knew that Morgana suffered frequent nightmares, some of which had left her nearly unable to function for hours after. He sat down on the edge of Gaius’s bed and gently shook Merlin. As expected, nothing happened, so Arthur increased his shaking.

“Merlin, it’s me, Arthur. You are having a bad dream. Wake up.”

“Don’t let them take me, Arthur. Please!”

Arthur was getting scared. He didn’t know what to do. Gaius was gone. What would he do in this situation?

Arthur took a deep breath, put his hands on Merlin’s shoulders, and leant close to his ear. “Merlin, it’s me, Arthur. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. You are okay. This is merely a bad dream. Come on and open your eyes. Please.” Arthur tried to keep his voice calm but was having difficulties with that. In all his years he had never been faced with anything similar. He thought about calling for the guards but that was much too risky. What if in his agitated state Merlin did magic?

Fortunately, Merlin chose that very moment to open his eyes, but he looked frightened. For several seconds the two merely stared at one another. Arthur had no idea what to do or say, so instead he stood and made his way over to the work bench, where he found a pitcher of water and a goblet. He attempted to gather himself.

Merlin sat up when Arthur returned and handed him the water. He gulped it down in one go then took several deep breaths as he looked at Arthur, his chest heaving.

“That was scary,” Arthur said, only thinking after the fact that perhaps he should have kept that to himself. 

“Yeah, sorry, it’s been a while since I have had one that bad.” Merlin’s eyes were darting around as if he were searching for something. “I think last time was the night we returned from Ealdor. Nearly scared poor Gaius to death I think.” Merlin let out a small chuckle but looked close to tears.

“Want to talk about it?” 

Merlin sighed and shook his head, but he looked at Arthur and studied him for several seconds, similar to earlier. 

It was clear he wanted to talk.

“Merlin, you can tell me anything. Anything,” Arthur repeated, wanting so badly to get Merlin to talk.

“Thanks, Arthur, but there’s nothing much to talk about. Just another dream about Will.” Now Merlin was shivering.

“Where are the blankets? You must be freezing.” Arthur stood and looked around for a cupboard.

“In my room in the cupboard to the right of the bed.”

Arthur found the blanket and returned, wrapping it around Merlin’s shoulders. He had half a mind to envelop Merlin in a hug but wasn’t at all sure that would be appropriate.

“Thank you.” Merlin sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

Arthur sat back down on the bed and studied Merlin, unsure if he should do or say anything else. Merlin had mentioned his name, so whatever dream he had, had not only been about Will, but Arthur decided against mentioning that. Instead, he looked over at the wall opposite and took a deep breath.

“I know I’ve said this before, Merlin, but I am really sorry about Will. I am to blame for his death. I should have been more vigilant. My father has told me repeatedly that, when possible, to never turn my back on an enemy I have done battle with until I know for certain he is dead. I was careless and because of that, Will paid with his life.” Arthur then turned his head back so he could look at Merlin, whose chin was quivering.

“Yeah, maybe,” Merlin said with another sniffle, “but at least Will died a hero. He saved your life, and he did save all of us from Kanen and his thugs, even if he used magic to do it.” There was the smallest of grins from Merlin, but it looked hard fought.

Arthur nodded, but what he wanted to do was tell Merlin that he knew the truth and that he was okay with it. He hadn’t been at the time, not really, but he was now. If only he could talk to Merlin and get Merlin to talk to him. But now was not the time. Not that there ever would be a right or a good time.

Instead he grinned. “And I am grateful he did. As you said, he saved many people that day. I think my fear of the unknown caused me to react badly, but now I realise that what Will did that day was not at all bad. I should not have been so abrupt with you for withholding Will’s secret from me.”

Merlin studied Arthur for several seconds before nodding. His grin disappeared. “Are you apologising for how you acted that day?”

“I thought I was just explaining myself,” Arthur said truthfully, “but if you think I should apologise, then I guess that is what I am doing.”

Merlin looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. “Okay, clotpole, I am ready to go back to sleep, so if you don’t mind getting off my bed I’d appreciate it.” Merlin returned his attention to Arthur. He once again looked sad and tired, but at least he didn’t seem as wretched as he had earlier. 

Arthur stood, nodded, and took his leave, hopeful that Merlin would be allowed to sleep without further nightmares.

As he lay in bed, now wide awake, Arthur wondered why Merlin had said his name, and why he had looked so terrified.


	3. Another Shooting Star Goes By

When Arthur awoke, the first vestiges of light were beginning to filter through the wooden slats. It wasn’t time for him to be awakened by Merlin but Arthur was restless, so he got out of bed and stretched. 

The floor was cold, and Arthur decided that he would quite like a warm bath, but he guessed that would have to wait. As he had found out when he stayed with Guinevere, it seemed warm baths were not a luxury afforded to servants.

Just why that was, Arthur wasn’t quite sure. He didn’t think it could cost that much to have a warm bath every now and again. But what did he know? Well, one thing he did know for a fact was that he had never had to worry about a bath. He would speak to his father and do his best to remedy this oversight forthwith, because no one else should have to worry about the lack of a bath. It was really a matter of hygiene, after all. Certainly that had to count for something. Or so Arthur hoped.

He opened the door, expecting to see Merlin scurrying about, tidying up or whatever he usually did first thing in the morning, but there was no Merlin. The room was lit by the same flambeau as the night before. Gaius’s bed was made, and Arthur noticed that there was a piece of parchment on it. He walked over, retrieved it, and opened it, curious. 

If it wasn’t meant for him, well, that was too bad.

> _Arthur, I needed some fresh air. I know you will want a bath so I have prepared one for you, but it is in your chambers; I didn’t want to explain why one was needed here. I will be there to tidy up at the regular time._
> 
> __
> 
> __
> 
> _Thank you for your help last night.  
>  Merlin_

Arthur sat on the bed and read the words Merlin had written again. 

“How my father knew I needed you, Merlin, I will never know.”

The letter wasn’t the only thing Merlin had left him. There was breakfast on the table. Arthur grinned. Merlin might not be overly happy to have Arthur as his guest, but he certainly was not letting that get in his way of being polite.

But, of course that was how Merlin would be. As completely useless as he was in so many areas (and, really, Arthur knew it had to be an act—he had no doubt that Merlin was not at all inept at everything he did, well, except for maybe walking in a straight line without tripping), he was first and foremost considerate of others. 

Merlin’s concern for others had been the reason the two met in the first place, hadn’t it? Cheeky Merlin had dared question the prince’s treatment of Morris.

Arthur let out a laugh at the memory, glad that no one was around to hear it.

Not too many minutes later he was in his chambers, disrobing and climbing into the bath, sighing and relaxing as the warm water met his cold body. If there was a more calming act than taking a bath, Arthur was unaware.

The only thing missing was his loud manservant, who usually provided a running commentary that meant Arthur never had a peaceful moment in the bath. Arthur’s complaints and requests for some blissful quiet from Merlin had always fallen on deaf ears, and on a few occasions Merlin’s vocal vomit had merely increased in volume after one of these chastisements.

What Arthur wouldn’t give for that at this very moment. He wasn’t sure of the time but guessed Merlin would probably make his grand entrance anytime now, and the room would once again be filled with mindless chatter. 

Arthur grinned.

A bird passing by his window reminded him about the patrols that were probably changing. He wondered if they had found anything last night. Probably not as they would have alerted him immediately, which meant there were more than likely still people out there looking to get into Camelot. It was disconcerting.

Arthur would feel so much better once his father returned.

As he ran the wash cloth over his chest, Arthur's thoughts went to William's imminent departure before returning to his father. It was because of the king that William was leaving. It was so unfair, but it was how it was and there was nothing Arthur could do it change it.

Wasn't it the way with parents that they were a constant conundrum: they were invaluable sources of protection and inspiration, yet they could make you feel so small and insignificant, and this was magnified because Arthur's father was also the king of Camelot, whose responsibility was to the people of Camelot, not just Arthur. It often seemed unfair that the prince had to share his father with so many others, but it was the way it had always been and the way it would always be. It really was best that William was leaving because he was not what the king thought he was, but his departure would most definitely be felt. Arthur would be sad to see him go. 

What would happen to their weekly meetings at The Rising Sun? Arthur had scoffed at the idea the first time William mentioned several of them getting together weekly, but now he looked forward to these fun-filled evenings where stress was not allowed.

The door opened and Merlin entered at the same moment that Arthur dunked his head beneath the warm water. He came up, grabbed the wash cloth, and wiped his eyes before grabbing the shampoo. As he rubbed the shampoo into his hair, he chanced a glance at Merlin and was heartened to see that he didn't look quite as tragic as he had not so many hours earlier. 

“Please tell me William is not gone, Merlin. He said he would find me before he left, but I had the impression he wanted to slip away without much fuss.”

“He’ll be here until after lunch, sire,” Merlin said, relief clear in his voice. “He planned to leave early but Tyr is re-shoeing his horse. Did you see that I left you breakfast?” Merlin deposited a tunic and trousers beside the bath. “Oh, just a word of warning. The sentry outside Gaius’s gave me an odd look this morning. He’s probably spreading rumours at this very moment that you and I are sharing a bed.” He rolled his eyes. “Your father will not be amused.”

“Don’t worry about the sentry. I’ll take care of them. Oh, and thank you for breakfast. Morgana invited me to breakfast with her and I cannot get out of that,” Arthur said, wishing he could, “but now I have an excuse to cut our meeting short.”

“Hm, I thought you looked forward to your time with her,” Merlin said as he knelt and put his hand in the water. He frowned before pulling it out. 

Arthur guessed Merlin was checking to see that the water was warm enough, and that it must not have been. If only Merlin would confide in him. Alas, that was not going to happen, at least not now. He watched as Merlin stood and walked over to the wardrobe and began retrieving dirty laundry.

“I do look forward to my time with Morgana, but there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. She has recently taken to meddling in my life,” he said, scoffing and rolling his eyes. He missed the Morgana of old, when she was all about helping _others_ and not so interested in _his_ life.

“You are lucky to have her to talk to, Arthur.” Merlin looked up and stared at Arthur for several seconds before returning to his tasks. “Meddlesome as she may be, you would miss her if she were to suddenly one day not be there. You never know what you have until it is taken from you.”

Oh. Arthur sighed and felt quite small. Merlin was talking about Will.

“I guess you saw the letter I left you?” 

Arthur nodded but guessed Merlin wouldn’t see him as he was hurriedly making his way around the room. Did he ever stop? He was in constant motion. It was what he was paid to do, but Arthur didn’t recall Morris being at all like this. 

Merlin reminded Arthur of the mice that could be seen scurrying throughout the citadel. 

“I did. And I think I owe you many apologies, Merlin,” Arthur said, taking a deep breath. “I shan’t go through them all, but suffice it to say that these past few months have not been my best and I seem to have taken you for granted. Morgana tells me this on a daily basis.” This said, he dunked his head to remove the shampoo, and when he reappeared, Merlin was looking at him with a smile, almost imperceptible, yes, but it was there, nonetheless. 

“I won’t argue with that, sire,” Merlin said as he passed the bath and retrieved a dirty towel from the day before. “Gaius says you have much on your shoulders and that I shouldn’t take anything you say or do to me personally. So that is what I try to do. But the apologies are appreciated.”

Arthur stood and exited the bath, making a mental note to not only try to be nicer to Merlin, but to also try not to throw random items at him in future. He wasn’t sure that would last, but he would try.

Merlin left soon after.

As Arthur dressed he wondered how long it had been since Merlin arrived in Camelot. Not quite a year he thought.

What a whirlwind it had been since he had arrived.

####

Morgana was already seated when Arthur entered and took his seat. 

“So?” she asked expectantly before taking a sip from her goblet. 

“I suppose you want to know if Merlin and I made it through the night without blood being shed?”

“Haha. Very funny. I saw him earlier and he looked, if not happy, at least happier than he did yesterday morning, so that is something. Did he share with you what has him so down?”

“As if I would tell you if he did.” Arthur took a pickled egg and stared at it, wondering what Morgana would say next.

“Woah, did I hit another nerve with you, Arthur, dear?” she simpered.

“How did things go with you and Guinevere?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Good, but did you know that most people do not have a bath in their house?” she asked with a slight frown.

Arthur couldn’t help the grin, although the memory that invoked it was not at all a funny one. He was ashamed of how he had treated Guinevere about her lack of a bath when he had stayed with her. He schooled his face. “Yes, I am aware. Fortunately, Merlin prepared a bath for me and had it ready in my chambers.”

“Aren’t you the lucky one. I doubt Morris would have done such.”

“Don’t I know it,” Arthur retorted. “And the lack of ability to have a bath is not the only problem. I think we need to revisit the allotment of fuel and wood we give to the people of Camelot. I realise that Gaius’s chambers are in a tower and that the draft will always be more prominent there, but it was much too cold. I imagine it was the same at Guinevere’s”

“It was colder than I expected, yes. I also noticed that the lighting outdoors is less than adequate. At dusk and dawn it is quite dark, which could be dangerous. Especially for people like Gwen, who live alone.”

Arthur nodded, thinking that this idea of his, one that he hadn’t been at all sure about, had indeed been a good one, and that even Morgana, who had not been in favour of doing this, had to agree that the information garnered was invaluable. Hopefully, his father would concur, although Arthur was almost certain that he would find something to complain about. 

“Yes, the lighting outside Gaius’s is no better. We need to alert the council and have new flambeaus installed. Although, I guess first we should bring these issues to my father. I thi—” but whatever Arthur had been about to say was left unsaid when Leon and Guinevere entered, both looking harried. 

“What’s wrong?” Arthur asked. There was no other reason his and Morgana’s breakfast would have been interrupted. “Have the patrol found anything?” Although if they had, he didn’t understand why Guinevere would be with Leon.

Leon shook his head and looked over at Guinevere.

“It’s Merlin, sire. He and I were to meet this morning.” She looked worried.

“And I am guessing he didn’t show up?” Arthur said calmly, choosing not to worry. Not yet. It was likely Merlin was out looking for herbs and had lost track of time. He did that from time to time, losing himself in the sereneness of being outdoors with nature.

Guinevere shook her head. “He and I talked early yesterday morning. I told him I was worried about him. He started to tell me what was bothering him, but then he said he had things to do and that he would meet me this morning and explain why he’d been so upset. He wouldn’t have forgotten to meet me. I know he wouldn’t have, sire.” It was clear that she was upset, which didn’t help Arthur’s resolve to not worry.

Morgana got up and took Guinevere’s hands in hers. “We’ll find him, Gwen.”

Arthur took a drink from his goblet then stood, attempting to remain as serene as possible. No sense in panicking Guinevere. Or himself. “Morgana, stay with Guinevere. Leon and I will go look for him.” 

He was still quite certain Merlin was somewhere goofing off, but in the back of his mind Arthur worried that someone or someones might have found Merlin and taken him. If anyone was after the king’s son, what better way to get to him than to take his manservant?

He and Leon ran to the stables and waited for their horses, then they were off. Arthur took the lead, remembering that Merlin had said something earlier about needing fresh air, which meant he had gone to a place Arthur knew well, at least if he had gone to the same part of the wood he usually went to when he needed to get away. Perhaps his early morning commune with nature had not been enough.

“I hope he had on his jacket,” Leon said as he looked around, pulling his cloak tighter around him.

“Hm,” Arthur said, worried. When he had seen Merlin in his chambers, he had not had on his jacket, nor had he had his neckerchief. It was true, though, that he had been indoors then, and Arthur knew that Merlin often removed both his jacket and neckerchief when he was busy. Hopefully, if he had gone back outdoors, he had thought to wear his jacket.

“Damn it, Merlin, where are you?” he said, irritated. He and Leon were meant to be walking into the council meeting at this very moment. Luckily for them, they were considered junior advisors. As such, their absence would merely be noted.

They rode for several more minutes until they reached a clearing. Arthur looked around. “This is where he usually goes and I see no sign of him, but maybe he is nearby,” Arthur said, more for himself than any real hope that it could be the truth. That part of him that had thought about the bandits was growing, and he was not liking the thoughts that were coming to him.

They searched for several minutes, neither saying anything other than calling out Merlin’s name.

“Is that him?” Leon asked, stopping his horse and pointing in the direction opposite to where Arthur had been looking. “Sitting against that beech tree?”

Arthur squinted; the flora was dense in these parts, and it was not anywhere close to where Arthur had found Merlin in the past.

“On the other side, sire. I think that large limb is camouflaging him.”

Arthur’s eyes focused and he realised that it was indeed Merlin, sitting there, back against a tree trunk, looking off in the distance, probably not giving a single thought to anyone or anything. Arthur sighed in relief, jumped off his horse, and started running towards his manservant, ready to give him a piece of his mind for worrying everyone.

But at that very second two men appeared out of nowhere. One of them, a huge man with long, scraggly hair pointed what looked like a knife and threatened Merlin. The other, equally as large, but with no hair, kicked Merlin hard enough to cause him to fall onto his back.

All of this happened as if in slow motion, but Arthur knew it was mere seconds. He could hear Merlin yelling at them and he could hear Leon running beside him. Why was it taking so long to reach Merlin? Arthur called out to him.

He was running as quickly as he possibly could but knew he’d never make it in time to get Merlin away from the knife. 

No sooner had he had this thought than the two probable bandits went flying into the air. They landed on their backs several feet away from Merlin.

Had Arthur not known Merlin had magic, this would have been quite the revelation, and Arthur wasn't sure how he would have reacted. It was a show of power that was nothing less than amazing. So much so that Arthur was momentarily speechless, but soon enough relief flooded him and he came back to himself. Thank the gods Merlin had thought to use his magic. “Merlin!” he yelled again as he finally reached him. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

Merlin sat up and opened his mouth, but no words came out as he continued to stare at the two bandits, who were obviously unable to move. Merlin then turned and looked at Arthur, his face pale. He looked terrified as he turned to Leon.

Arthur turned to see a pale Leon staring back at Merlin, his mouth wide open. His eyes were huge. 

Hm, wasn’t this an interesting conundrum. 

Who should Arthur address first? 

“Close your mouth, Leon,” he said, a slight grin on his face. “It’s okay. Merlin’s not dangerous.” Arthur then turned to Merlin. “You can close your mouth as well. I know,” he added, his voice now much softer, hoping to put Merlin at ease as he knelt beside him. He turned Merlin’s face from left to right to make sure he was okay, then he looked at his side, where he had been kicked, although it was impossible for him to know if they had hurt Merlin. “Did they hurt you?”

Merlin continued to stare but shook his head. “N—not really. H—he kicked me p—pretty good, b—but I’ll live. Y—you know? H—how?” he stuttered, looking scared to death.

“Merlin has magic,” Leon said, sounding awed. 

Arthur wanted to laugh. It was the opposite of what he should want to do, but in all of his imaginings about how Merlin’s _reveal_ would go, never had someone else been present.

“Yes, Leon, Merlin has magic,” Arthur said as he continued looking at Merlin, trying to convey to him that it was fine, that he was not in trouble, “and I would ask that you please keep this between us. My father would not think twice before having him executed, and I am not willing to allow that to happen.” Arthur swallowed, wondering if he sounded as harried as he felt. He was a bundle of nerves but needed to remain outwardly as calm as possible so as not to frighten Merlin further.

“I won’t say anything,” Leon said, still obviously in some sort of shock, which was completely understandable. Arthur had known for almost a year, and it was still rather jarring when he thought about it.

“As captivating a tale as how I learned of your magic is, Merlin, we can talk about it later. For now we need to get you inside where it is warm. Guinevere is worried sick that something bad has happened to you. You had plans to meet her and didn’t show up. What were you thinking coming out here without a jacket?”

Merlin shrugged.

Several minutes later, the two bandits, who somehow had no memory of what had befallen them (Arthur would ask Merlin just how powerful he was later) tethered to Leon's horse, Arthur mounted his own horse, Merlin seated in front of him, and grabbed hold of the reins. He and Leon exchanged a brief glance as they began the short journey. Arthur wasn’t sure what the grin from Leon was for—he would be sure to ask once they made sure Merlin was okay.

“Why were you out here? It’s freezing!” Arthur said, not bothering to keep his voice down. “Do you even think?”

“Too much, I think,” was Merlin's only response, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Why couldn't anyone just answer him in a normal way? Arthur sighed and closed his eyes momentarily. He would require a night in the tavern after this.

Merlin shrugged.

When they arrived at the stables, Guinevere was waiting for them and didn’t ask permission before taking Merlin with her. Arthur looked at Leon and shook his head, not understanding. He watched two other knights take away the bandits, and didn't know what to do. He had assumed Merlin would have questions for him and that maybe he would want to talk, but obviously that wasn't the case. It seemed perfectly clear that Merlin felt more secure with Guinevere.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, sire,” Leon said as he put his hand on Arthur's shoulder and gave him a commiserating look. “Merlin needs some time to think about what just happened, and Gwen is the perfect person for him to do so with. He needs a friend, someone he feels comfortable with right now, but that boy only has eyes for one person, and that is you, mate. And I dare say the same for you.”

What? What was Leon going on about? “Erm, what?” Arthur asked incredulously.

“You heard me. Now go after him and tell him he has nothing to worry about; his magic is safe with us.”


	4. Don't Let the Moment Run Too Fast

By the time Arthur made it to Gaius’s—why was it that when one was in a hurry to get somewhere, they were swarmed with others asking the most inane questions and requesting immediate attention to some _massively important_ plight that was a matter of life or death—Merlin was scurrying around, preparing lunch, Guinevere and Morgana seated at the table laughing at something one of them had said. 

They all looked inexorably happy. 

The scene before him was bizarre to be sure, but in a very good way; it reminded Arthur of their trip to Ealdor not so many months before. The four of them had banded together and somehow cajoled a group of poor villagers to rise up against Kanen and his men. 

In the end, they had succeeded. They had lost Matthew and Will, which had been sad and unfortunate, but Arthur was proud of what they accomplished. For once, the big bad men had not succeeded against the little man. 

Merlin turned and saw him standing in the doorway and, as Arthur expected, that happy-go-lucky demeanour vanished. And, of course, Morgana also chose that same moment to turn towards him. 

Great. Wonderful. Brilliant.

Arthur cleared his throat. “Morgana, would you and Guinevere give Merlin and me a few minutes? I need to speak with him.”

As Morgana passed him, she leant in and whispered in his ear. “You hurt him and you’ll have the whole of Camelot to deal with.” She then gave him a pointed look before turning towards Guinevere and picking up their conversation where they had left off. 

Arthur was left standing there, not quite sure what that was about.

“So, they’re gone now. What do you need to talk to me about, sire? Are you about to banish me? Or worse?” Merlin asked as he continued cutting up tomatoes, glaring at Arthur the entire time.

Arthur wondered how anyone could do that. If Arthur tried the same—talking and preparing food at the same time—he would surely cut off a thumb or finger. But this was not really the time for him to be thinking about that, was it? Merlin had asked an important question, hadn’t he? 

He sighed and shook his head as he sat where Morgana had been seated. He had rehearsed this conversation so many times, but now that the moment was at hand he was drawing a blank. But he had to say something. Why was he so horrible with words? “Neither you nor me are as stupid as the other thinks, Merlin, am I right?”

“I never thought you were stupid!” Merlin retorted, affronted, his glare increasing as he set down the knife. 

“No? But you did think you were clever enough to think I would not discover you had magic, did you not?”

Merlin’s breathing became faster than normal. “I was careful. I had to be. Your father would have had me executed had he found out. I don’t know about clever—no one has ever accused me of being that, ever—but I did what I had to do and hoped you wouldn’t find out. How did you find out?” he asked, panic in his voice as he swallowed and looked as if he were moments away from bursting into tears.

“I will tell you, but first you need to calm down, Merlin,” Arthur said as calmly as he could, thinking that, of all the people who should be trying to comfort Merlin in such a tense time, he was the very last person who should be doing such. He really had no idea what he should do or say. He really wished Gaius were here; he would know what to say. “You are not in danger. I promise. I refuse to let anything bad happen to you. Okay? Just breathe. Please. Gaius will not thank me if any harm comes to you whilst I am staying here with you.” 

Arthur grinned, trying to lighten the mood between them, but it didn’t seem to work, for either of them. But Merlin did nod as he took a few deep breaths. “That’s better. Okay, you asked how I found out.” Arthur briefly looked up towards the ceiling, hoping that he wasn’t making things worse.

Merlin took another deep breath and nodded before motioning for Arthur to continue.

“I’d suspected since the day you and I had our mace fight, but it was the night Lady Helen, or the impostor Lady Helen, tried to kill me that I knew for sure. There was no possible way you could have reached me in time to save me from that knife, Merlin. Not unless you stopped time. I didn’t want to believe it, but there was no other explanation. I just knew my father would have come to the same conclusion, but obviously he must not have been paying attention to where you had been standing, nor had anyone else. Or at least they didn’t say anything if they had.”

“So you knew that I was telling the truth when I admitted to being the sorcerer when Gwen’s father was cured?” Merlin looked crestfallen.

“I did and, while I admire your chivalrous ways of protecting your friends, Merlin, you came close to getting yourself killed. You are fortunate I did know about your magic and that I think quickly on my feet.”

Merlin sat across from Arthur. He still looked deathly pale. “And that means you knew it was me and not Will who did the magic in Ealdor.”

Arthur sighed. “Yes.” 

Merlin seemed to ponder this for several seconds. “I know that you wanted to protect me from your father, Arthur, but why did you never say anything to me when we were alone?”

“Because I thought that you would have reacted badly. I knew how scared you must have been that someone would find out. I wanted so badly to tell you I knew but didn’t want to frighten you further than you already were.” Arthur hoped Merlin would understand.

“Why would you protect me? You are risking everything. For me.” Merlin looked as if he truly didn’t understand.

Arthur shrugged, but truth be told he wanted to get up, leave, and go somewhere no one could see him so he could cry. That he was having this conversation was wrong. That anyone should have to wonder why someone else would protect them was just so very heartbreaking.

He had never once thought of the why, but from the very beginning he had known that he would do whatever it took to keep Merlin safe. He couldn’t explain it—it was as if something had compelled him to protect Merlin, which was somewhat ironic because after this past year, it seemed that Merlin had done his fair share of protecting Arthur as well. “I don’t know that I have an explanation. I just knew it was the right thing to do.” Arthur swallowed, hoping to regain his composure.

“Okay, so what does this mean for us going forward?”

Arthur again shrugged. “As far as I can tell, it means we go on as we have been. Nothing needs to change. Those two out there don’t know about you as far as I can tell, but I would bet my life that if Morgana and Guinevere did know they would protect your secret just as ardently as I have and will.”

####

“I wish we could change your mind about leaving, but I guess it really is for the best,” Arthur said as William mounted his horse and retrieved his knapsack from Merlin. “My father was fooled last year by another faux-knight. He was banished. I fear your punishment would be worse.”

William nodded as he glanced around at his surroundings. “This is best for everyone.” He then looked down at Merlin. “Thank you. You have been a true friend to me, Merlin. I owe you. Please take care of that one,” he said, laughter in his voice as he turned his head towards Arthur. “He’s a good one.”

Then William rode off, not even once looking back.

Merlin sighed. “Your father ruins everything, Arthur.” The bitterness in his voice was thick.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Arthur should probably reprimand Merlin for his insubordination, but if anyone had good reason to be upset with the king, Merlin did. He was having to hide who he was to protect himself. It was no small feat.

“You are?” Merlin asked, shock on his face.

Arthur shrugged. “He’s my father, Merlin, but he is wrong about many things, such as thinking magic is bad. I mean, some of it is bad, but what I have seen you do, there is nothing bad about that, so yes, I am sorry that my father’s stance stands in the way of you living your life freely.”

“So you really knew that I had magic. All this time you just let me wallow in my misery alone? Thanks.” And there was that familiar smile, not huge, but it was something, and Arthur had to admit that something was better than nothing.

“Yes, well, it was better I kept quiet. I was afraid the wrong person would find out, and like I said earlier, I thought you would react badly to knowing I knew.”

“You’re sure no one else knows?”

“Well, I can’t be sure. I guess Guinevere and Morgana could know; you aren’t exactly careful. Lancelot knew, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, how did you know that?” Merlin asked, again looking frightened.

“Because according to the information we were told, only magic could kill the creature. You enchanted the lance. I knew that as soon as the two of you returned, but when I found out Lancelot decided to leave on his own, before my father made his final decision, I knew he must have figured your secret out. He was happy here.”

Merlin sighed. “My magic has caused so many people problems.”

“But it has also helped,” Arthur said, refusing to let Merlin denigrate his magic. “I don’t know for sure, of course, but it was likely you who saved me when the Questing Beast bit me, wasn’t it?” 

Merlin nodded. 

“And you cured my father when Edwin Muirden poisoned him?” 

Again, Merlin nodded.

“May I ask a question?” Arthur asked hesitantly. 

“I think you already have asked a few, so ask away.”

“Why couldn’t you save Will?”

At this, Merlin looked distraught. “I wanted to but it was too much. I should have tried. I don’t know why I didn’t. Why didn’t I try?”

“Merlin, breathe,” Arthur said, worried that Merlin was working himself up too much.

“Sorry, it’s just a lot. I haven’t really thought about that day since it happened. I'm not good at healing others. Never have been. Gaius has given me a book and I have tried getting better, but, well, it hasn't helped.”

“I guess magic is like anything else and there are things you are good at and things you aren't.” Arthur then looked around him, wondering how secure they were. Anyone could ride up upon them. “I have many other questions, but maybe we should wait until we are somewhere more private before I ask.” 

Merlin nodded but didn’t look too happy. 

“I’m sorry, Merlin. I am sure you are overwhelmed to find out I know. It’s a lot to take in. If you don’t want to talk about it anymore today, just say so.”

“So, if I tell you I don’t want to talk about it, you’ll leave it?”

Arthur shrugged. “Yeah, that’s what I said. I just thought maybe you’d be happy to finally be able to talk about it with someone.”

Merlin sighed. “Yeah, I am, and I do want to talk about it with you later. It’s just that I’m sad that William left. I wonder what he will do now. He was so happy here.”

“He’ll be fine, I’m sure,” Arthur said, not at all sure, and Merlin’s dwindling mood did not help. 

“I hope so.”

Arthur couldn’t be sure but he had the feeling there was more Merlin wasn’t saying. He was almost certain now that Merlin and William had been more than friends. He was about to say as much, or ask about it, when one of his father’s advance guard (who had gone with him on his trip) rode up to them on his horse. 

Arthur’s initial reaction was fear. Had anything happened to his father? The king hadn’t been scheduled to return for days.

“Prince Arthur, I was sent to inform you and the council that the king will return momentarily.”

“Might I inquire as to why?” Arthur held his breath, every possible thought running through his mind. The one foremost being that he fervently hoped his father was okay.

“Advance riders informed us last night that the Forest of Ascetir was teeming with bandits. It seems that word got out we would be arriving within the day. There was no other choice but to return.”

Arthur nodded. He was relieved that his father was fine and that he would be returning unharmed, but the moment of relief was mitigated by the flood of emotions that washed through him. Arthur's life would soon return to its usual monotony of daily ritual. It was as it always had been and Arthur would soon get over his momentary bout of woe, but for the moment he found himself already missing the absence of his father.

Arthur wasn’t ready to go back to his own chambers. He had planned to stay two more nights at Gaius’s. And now that Merlin knew that Arthur knew about his magic, this would have been the perfect time for them to talk more in-depth about everything.

“How long until everyone arrives?” Arthur asked, wondering how much time he had to mentally prepare himself.

“Not long at all, Prince Arthur. I think by the time you finish your afternoon training session, they will be here.”

Arthur watched the guard ride off before turning towards Merlin. “Well, I guess you’ll be getting rid of me sooner than expected. You must be happy about that.”

“Yeah, now I can have those few days to myself before Gaius returns.” Merlin attempted to grin, but his words seemed hollow.

“I need to get to training. We won’t have an opportunity to talk when my father arrives back in Camelot, but I’ll stop by Gaius’s to get my things later, and if you feel like talking more, we can do so then.” Arthur schooled his face. It was time to get back to normal, or as normal as things would ever be with him being a prince who had a magic user as his manservant.

Oddly enough, that thought comforted Arthur and reminded him that, even as he and Merlin’s current arrangement would be ending, they would still see each other every day. That was not changing.

Merlin nodded but said nothing.

####

Arthur stood in approximately the same place he had the day before as his father had departed. This time, however, he found himself waiting for his father’s imminent return. Merlin was in his usual position, by his side, and it wasn’t difficult to see that he was nervous. Arthur wondered why, but now was not the time to ask.

“I hope Gaius and Geoffrey are okay,” Merlin said out of the blue as he turned to look at Arthur, worried. “I think they were travelling near where your father and the others were headed.”

Arthur hadn’t thought about that, but now that he did, he was worried as well. But he couldn’t let on to Merlin. “I’m sure they are fine.”

“But you don’t know that, do you?” Merlin asked as he turned back to look in front of him. “You’re just saying that because you’re trying to keep me from worrying.”

Merlin was not stupid; Arthur needed to remember that. He nodded. “You’re right, but I do think they are fine. No sense in worrying when there is nothing we can do.”

A harrumph from Merlin. “You are such a prat.”

“Not a clotpole?” Arthur said, a slight grin on his face.

“No, you’re that, too.”

“It’s good to see you smiling.”

“Yeah, I figured why not. It’s not like I can change what’s going to happen, no matter how much I want to.”

“What?” Arthur asked, thinking that was an odd response, but any response Merlin might have given was cut short when someone yelled that they saw the king.

“Here we go,” whispered Arthur, plastering a fake smile on his face.

And then Uther was there, in front of them, dismounting his horse, his cloak blowing in the wind behind him as he handed his horse off to Tyr and began walking towards the steps.

Arthur took a deep breath and heard Merlin doing the same.

Uther went down the line, speaking to everyone, grinning and making small talk, doing his kingly thing as only Uther Pendragon could. Arthur wondered how he did it? How could he act so cool and kind and interested as he listened to everyone? It was a learned talent, Arthur knew, but he didn’t think he would ever learn.

Then his father stood before him.

“Hello, Father.” Arthur made sure he was standing straight, shoulders back, face neutral. No matter how many times he repeated this over the years, it would never become easy.

“I hear that whilst I was away you decided to do some research to better your knowledge of people in Camelot.” Uther’s gaze travelled over to Merlin before returning to his son.

There was no sense in denying it. Best to get it out there in the open. “Yes, sire.” Arthur bit his cheek and swallowed.

Uther grinned. “You did well. A true Pendragon worthy of the job you will one day have.”

Arthur stared ahead, not quite believing what he was hearing. 

“You thought I would be disappointed? How could I ever be disappointed in you taking such initiative. I am proud of you, Arthur. I know I do not say it enough, but please know that you are the most important thing in my life, and I will do all in my power to see that you succeed. In fact, I have been doing some serious thinking and have decided it is time to step up your schooling in the business of ruling this kingdom.”

“You have?” Arthur asked, in shock. 

“Yes, I have. I must say I am somewhat surprised that your manservant has not let you in on what I have planned for you.” 

Arthur turned to Merlin and did not miss Merlin’s trembling hands.

The king then turned back to Merlin. “I was asked to pass on a message to you. Gaius will return within the hour. My men found him and Geoffrey and alerted them to the presence of bandits nearby so they decided to follow our lead and return.”

Arthur watched as Merlin nodded in acknowledgment, but then his entire body began to shake.

What was going on?

Arthur’s attention turned back to his father, and just like that he had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as his father’s previous words about Merlin came back to him.

The king smiled, his attention still on Merlin. “You have served my son well, Merlin, and I thank you for your service. As we discussed before I left, you will now be serving one of our future knights and my son will have a new servant, someone better equipped to help him learn the ins and outs of what it is to lead Camelot.”

Oh. No. Nononononono.

Arthur swallowed.

This was so much worse than anything he could have ever imagined. “I am happy with Merlin, Father.” He chanced a glance at Merlin and saw him trembling uncontrollably. It was all Arthur could do to not cover Merlin’s hands with his own and assure him that everything would be alright. Gods he hoped everything would be alright.

“And I am glad of it, Arthur. He has served the royal household well and will continue to do so for years to come, I am sure. Just not with you. I have decided that he will be Sir William of Deira’s new manservant. I feel Merlin is a better fit for him than you. You need someone who will not coddle you. Did Sir William tell you I asked him to stay on and become a knight of Camelot?”

And that is when it all fell into place. 

His father’s positive attitude towards Sir William and seemingly cool, unimpressed reaction to him and Merlin since Sir William’s arrival.

Merlin’s bad mood.

William’s unexpected departure. 

Arthur felt sick. Everything came crashing down on him. 

But then he felt a slight glimmer of hope. It was small, but it was there. He tried to smile. “Father, Sir William left earlier today; he said his time here has been advantageous but that it was time for him to move on.”

####

Arthur sat on the bottom step, staring straight ahead. Everyone had left, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He needed to go retrieve his things from Gaius’s, and he should probably go find Morgana and discuss what they wanted to present to his father the following day. There was also Merlin to worry about. He had left and gone off to who knew where earlier, and Arthur felt that it was his responsibility to go find him and bring him back.

But at the moment he couldn’t muster the energy to do anything. His body was no longer shaking, but inwardly Arthur felt like his life was coming unraveled. 

Now he knew just how much his life was not his own.

“Mind if I join you?” Morgana asked before sitting beside him.

Arthur said nothing.

She put her hand through his before settling her head on his shoulder.

Arthur reveled in the contact. Morgana had always known when he needed that. He looked up at the sky and opened his eyes as wide as he could, hoping to stave off the tears that were soon to follow. “Please tell me you didn’t know what my father was planning, Morgana.”

“Of course I didn’t know, Arthur. Do you really think I would have kept something like that from you?” She then sat up straight and put her hand on his chin. “Look at me,” she said softly.

When he did as asked, she took his hands in hers. “When I heard what Uther had planned, my heart sank, for you, yes, but mainly for Merlin. Now it all makes sense why he was so distraught these past few days. You need to go find him. He didn’t look at all well when he left, and we both know where he went.”

At this, Arthur seemed to come back to himself. Of course. He stood abruptly and looked around him. “You’re right. What was I thinking letting him go off on his own?” He wiped his eyes and cleared his throat. “You and I need to talk; I had hoped for us to do that this evening, but as you say, someone else needs me more. Let’s talk over breakfast in the morning?”

She nodded as she stood. “Of course.” She turned and began walking up the steps, but then she stopped, Arthur still watching her. “You will one day wield great power, Arthur. I know your heart, and I know how big it is. Seeing how you stood up to your father earlier regarding Merlin made my heart happy. I would just ask that you take care to never lose that caring fierceness. I fear that many trials are ahead for you, but you have the capacity to do so much good for so many people. Please do not allow your father and his tactics to overshadow your instincts.” Then she resumed walking up the steps.

Arthur stared at her. What had that been about?

But it was something to think about later. For now Arthur needed to find Merlin.

He felt like walking, but as the weather was deteriorating by the minute, he went to the stables. Tyr was returning one of the horses to the stalls.

“Hello, Tyr.”

“Sire, do you need your horse?” the boy asked excitedly, the grin on his face lighting up. Arthur nodded as he watched the stable boy retrieve his horse and get him ready. 

As a young boy, Arthur had so enjoyed watching the stable hands with the horses—he recalled being fascinated with the majestic creatures that took people where they needed to go—and he had even told his father that when he got bigger he wanted to be a stable hand because they got to work with the horses all day.

Sometimes Arthur wished he could have done that.

But it seemed fate had other plans for him. 

And, really, Arthur knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would not have been anywhere near as good with the horses. Tyr was a natural, and Camelot was lucky to have him. 

Tyr had been slated to go to a nearby village to live with his brother and his wife because his mother was ill and unable to support him financially any longer, when Morgana had heard of the boy’s plight. She had talked to Uther and, after much pleading, he had agreed to give him a job in the stables.

Arthur had wondered if the boy would be able to keep up with demand, but so far he had worked out better than expected. The knights adored him, and even the king found himself conversing with Tyr daily.

“Sire, Merlin was here earlier. I worried that he had no jacket, but he said he would be fine,” Tyr said as he brought Arthur’s horse to him.

Arthur looked over to where Merlin’s horse usually stood. How had he not noticed it was gone when he first arrived?

“Thank you, Tyr. You have done well, and I thank you for how attentive you are. Please tell your mother I said hello.”

“Yes, sire.”

The two shared a final smile, and then Arthur was off to find Merlin.

It was not quite dark yet, but it was quickly approaching that time. The temperature had dropped several more degrees. “Merlin, what am I going to do with you?” he said out loud.

He started out at a canter but was soon galloping towards the place he assumed Merlin would be, all the time keeping a sharp eye out for bandits.

He hadn’t travelled far when he saw Merlin’s horse, and then Merlin, seated against a tree trunk, the once huge tree long gone. The surrounding flora hid much of him, the same as it had done that morning when they had found Merlin and Merlin had revealed his magic.

Arthur thought about calling out to him to give him warning but decided not to. 

He dismounted his horse, secured it to a nearby tree (the same one Merlin’s horse was tethered to), and began walking towards him, trying to decide what to say. His stealth, it seemed, was not as good as he thought, however, because Merlin looked at him and sighed.

“I figured you’d be coming for me sooner or later.”

Arthur sat down beside him and leant against the tree trunk but said nothing as he looked at Merlin.

“Did you know this is what your father had planned?” Merlin asked, hurt in his voice.

“No, I didn’t know anything about this, Merlin. I guess this is why you have been so upset for the past two days? You should have told me.”

“I couldn’t say anything, Arthur. Your father is the king; he can do as he pleases. It wasn’t my place to come crying to you just because I’m being reassigned to someone else. I didn’t want to say anything that would create strife for you and your father.”

“I’m so—”

“But I was happy. With you," Merlin said as if he hadn't heard Arthur beginning to speak again. “I didn’t think I would be. You were a right prat from the beginning, but I always knew you had it in you to one day be a great leader. I guess I just assumed we’d always be together.”

“As did I,” Arthur said sadly. “I can’t believe my father didn’t even ask me.”

Merlin let out a derisive laugh as he looked at Arthur. “So now that your father’s plan to pawn me off to _Sir William_ has been thwarted, who will my new _master_ be?”

“What makes you so sure he would _pawn you off_ to anyone else?” Arthur asked, a small smile forming, but it stopped and reverted into a frown when Merlin, who had been looking up at some birds who were flying past, turned towards Arthur, his face crumpling into intense sadness.

“I need work, Arthur. If your father has decided that my services are not needed, then I guess I’ll return to Ealdor.” 

Arthur sighed. He hadn’t considered that Merlin would mistake what he said. “Don’t be so dramatic, Merlin. Even if my father did not think your manservant abilities were up to par,” and here Arthur rolled his eyes because, really, when had Merlin’s manservant abilities ever been up to par, “you could do other things. You have not been here long but I know for a fact that you are indispensable to Gaius. Did you know that he has informed my father that he thinks you could possibly replace him when he gets too old to continue?” 

Merlin shook his head, wonderment on his face. 

Arthur wanted so very badly to reach over and wipe the tear that was hanging on Merlin’s eyelashes away but resisted. “Yeah, so see? You are not quite as helpless as you seem to think. But as it turns out, my father has decided to leave you where you are.”

“He did?” And a genuine smile appeared on Merlin’s face, but his chin began to quiver.

“Yes.”

“Why? It was clear that he was ready for you to have someone more experienced who could help better than me.”

Arthur nodded and really wished that Merlin’s voice didn’t sound as if he was near tears. It was doing strange things to him. For one, he wanted to hug Merlin. “Yes, and he made that argument in more ways than one, believe me. But in the end I told him you were good for me, that since you came into my life I have become less of a bully and more of a caring prince who understands how much power he wields and how others see that and take it as a threat. He said that was well and good and that he understood that I had grown attached to you but that I would get over you and that I would soon find myself feeling the same about someone else.”

“So what changed his mind?”

“Morgana. She told my father that he needed to trust me to know what I need, and if I thought I needed you, then there was a reason for that.”

“She said that?”

“Yes.”

“And your father listened to her? Just like that?” Merlin scoffed and shook his head. “Don't get me wrong, Arthur, I am pleased, but that argument seems fairly flimsy to me.”

Arthur nodded. Merlin wasn't wrong. “He was not pleased to be challenged by Morgana, there is no doubt about that, but she has a way with him that no one else does.” He decided to leave out the bit where his father had told him that it was unacceptable that the son of the king would make such a scene over a poor serving boy and that if he wanted to experiment he could find someone else far better suited to that role.

“I guess, at least until he changes his mind again. I don’t think I can go through this again, sire. ” 

“You won’t have to. I’ll make sure of it.” Arthur looked over at Merlin. “I promise.” 

“What is the catch? There has to be one,” Merlin said dolefully. “This is too easy. What aren't you telling me?” 

Arthur should have realised Merlin would not be satisfied with less than the complete truth. This was another of those affirmations that Merlin was far more intelligent than he led on. “My father gave me a choice, which wasn't much of a choice at all, so now he will be taking a much larger role in my day-to-day life.” This was not at all what Arthur wanted, but if it was the price he had to pay to keep Merlin, then it was one he would gladly pay.

To be honest, Arthur wondered if he would wake up the following morning to see that Merlin really was being taken away from him; he found it almost unbelievable that his father had capitulated regarding Merlin. It was mystifying. Morgana had told him that Uther had a heart and in the end he had not been able to watch his son be so sad. Arthur wasn’t sure he believed that. 

“You can’t make such promises, Arthur. Please do not do that.”

Arthur nodded. Merlin was correct, of course, but Arthur would do all in his power to keep that promise. And that would begin now. He forced a smile and let out a chuckle. It was forced, but he needed to lighten the mood. “I must admit to being somewhat surprised that you were so upset at the thought of leaving me. As lovely as I am, I do not exactly treat you that great at times. You and William got on well and were close. I imagined that you would jump at the idea of serving him. If he were a true knight and hadn’t left, would you have been fine with the change?”

Merlin shook his head.

“Why?”

Merlin stood and began walking towards his horse. “It doesn’t matter.” He sounded resigned.

“If only that were true, Merlin,” Arthur said as he stood and joined Merlin. “Everything about this says it does matter. Earlier, you seemed happy that you are not leaving me, yet you seem sad again. Why is that? What am I missing?” Arthur pleaded silently for Merlin to please tell him. He felt as though he were part of a cruel joke that everyone except for him was in on.

“This.” And Merlin followed his succinct, yet very firm pronouncement by pushing Arthur up against the tree where their horses were tied. He stared at Arthur for several seconds, his chest heaving, before kissing him.

Everything happened so fast that Arthur had no time to really think, but when he did he decided thinking was highly overrated and that if thinking needed to be done, which it most assuredly did because, well, just because, it could be done later. He wrapped his arms around Merlin and pulled him in closer. 

This felt so right. Why hadn’t he ever thought about this before?

Several seconds later, Merlin pulled back and looked startled as he bit his lip. “Sorry, but you asked why I cared so much. This was the easiest way to show you. Have I ruined things?”

Arthur touched his lips with his fingers and glanced up towards the sky. Not once had he ever thought of doing anything like this with Merlin. He had felt a connection with him from the beginning—it had been as if something were pulling them together—but this? No, he had never thought about it. But now that he had done it—kissed Merlin—Arthur knew without a single doubt that it was right. It was more right than anything else ever had been in Arthur's life.

Nothing else in the world could ever be more right.

He shook his head as he returned his focus to Merlin, whose expressions were ever-changing, each of them beautiful. “No, you have not ruined things, Merlin.” Arthur swallowed.

Merlin stepped back further and let out a small laugh.

“What’s that for?” a somewhat irked Arthur asked. This was serious, and he most assuredly did not appreciate Merlin laughing at him.

“I really should have thought this through, Arthur. We can’t go back to my room because if Gaius isn’t back he soon will be, and, as much as I want to finish what I started with you, it’s too cold out here. So…” 

“So, Merlin,” Arthur said as he pulled Merlin to him, relieved that his manservant-turned-soon-to-be-lover hadn’t been laughing at him. “I think that means we are going back to my chambers. If anyone, such as Morgana or my father, should ask why you are accompanying me, which they won’t because you are my manservant and are often in my rooms at night, I’ll simply tell them that you went out to pick herbs and lost track of time so I went to look for you, and when I found you, you were freezing so I am taking you to my chambers to warm you up.” 

Merlin blushed as he untied his horse from the tree. “And if you are good, just maybe I can warm us up in more ways than one. Erm, if you’re okay with that,” he said, appearing nervous. “I've held back using magic in front of you, erm, _for the most part_ ,” he added when Arthur scoffed, “so I can do so again tonight.”

“You don't need to hold back, Merlin.” Arthur then chuckled. “Did you know that your eyes turn different shades of gold depending on what your magic is being used for? I wonder what they'll look like when I have my cock buried inside your arse?”

And weren't those the weirdest string of words Arthur had ever uttered. Truly, he thought he should probably pinch himself. 

Merlin had magic.

Arthur was most likely about to go to his chambers with Merlin where the two of them were sure to get naked and do things to each other that meant they were no longer merely master and manservant or friends.

It was unbelievable, yet here Arthur was, standing inches away from Merlin, who had kissed him seconds earlier. 

“Are you sure?” Merlin asked. “We don’t have to. I can hold my magic back if it will make you feel better.”

Arthur shook his head, wondering if he had looked afraid. He hadn't meant to. “This, you and me, I never imagined. Not once. I probably should have,” he said, not quite sure why, but really, he did know why. It should have occurred to him from the beginning of their arrangement that Merlin was never meant to be merely his manservant. Merlin had fit perfectly from the beginning. “I think I realise now that others have been hinting about me liking you and wanting more with you, but I didn’t understand. Now I do and part of that is understanding that I am not here for a part of you. I am here for all of you, Merlin. Magic and all.” And if this wasn't the most surreal of moments, there was not such a thing. Arthur looked around him in astonishment.

The trip back to the citadel took no time because Arthur and Merlin talked animatedly and with in-depth descriptions about what they were about to do to each other. Fortunately for everyone, no one interrupted them.

They had major plans that would keep them busy for hours.

Then the two were alone in Arthur’s room.

And suddenly Arthur found himself so very self-conscious. He watched Merlin start a fire—with magic—and wondered what came next. He’d done this once, with a knight from Gedref, but that had been a bit of fun. This, well, this was so much more, and it terrified Arthur.

Arms wrapped around him from behind and lips kissed his neck. “Have you done this before?” Merlin asked softly before he continued kissing Arthur’s collarbone.

Arthur nodded. “Have you?” Merlin didn’t answer. “You and Will?” Arthur wasn’t sure why he asked, but he somehow knew. 

“Yes.”

“Did you love him?” Arthur was prying. He knew that. But if Merlin didn’t want to answer, he didn’t have to.

“Not really. I thought I did, but now I think I just wanted someone to love me for me. I always felt so alone, separated from everyone by my magic. Will was there for me. But then things happened and I ended up here.”

“I’m glad you did,” Arthur said, his uneasiness and fear fading. 

Merlin stepped away but reappeared in front of Arthur. “I was terrified that I’d be taken from you. When your father told me what he had planned for me, and you, I think I just closed myself off. It hurt too much to be around you after that, knowing how much I didn’t want to leave you, but knowing I wouldn’t have a choice.”

Arthur took Merlin in his arms. “No one is taking you away from me. Ever.”

Merlin nodded. “I’ve kept my magic secret this long. I can keep it secret forever. But what about us? I can’t imagine that your father would approve.”

Arthur kissed Merlin, not wanting to think about this at the moment. He lifted Merlin’s arms and removed his tunic. Next he undid Merlin’s breeches. 

Once Merlin was naked, Arthur removed his own clothing, all the while completely amazed that this was really happening. 

Arthur then walked Merlin to his bed, pulled back the covers, and motioned for Merlin to get comfortable.

Merlin crawled over to the right side of the bed and lay on his back.

This was surreal. Arthur couldn't believe he was so happy. Merlin was a feast to look at. His beautiful cock was not completely erect but was well on its way. Arthur looked down at his own and saw that his was also quickly filling. The sight made him giddy; it had been far too long since someone else had elicited such a reaction.

Arthur sat on the bed and took in his beautiful Merlin for several seconds. “May I?” he asked, motioning between his cock and Merlin’s arse. “I want to be inside you.”

“I see you don’t play around, Arthur, do you? Get right to the action. I like that,” Merlin said with a huge grin.

“Erm, we don’t have to do this now. What do you want to start off with? I’m not good with these things, as you can probably tell.” Arthur stared down at the bed covers as his good mood began to wane. He and Merlin hadn’t even done anything and already he was getting it all wrong.

“Arthur, you are doing fine. I didn’t mean to tease you. Of course I want to do that, and we can do it now. In fact, please do that to me now,” he said seriously.

The preparation took some time—Arthur wanted to be sure he wouldn’t hurt Merlin—but he enjoyed every second of it. He began carefully but, with prodding from Merlin, soon began a more thorough exploration of the delectable arse before him. Merlin was extremely proactive from the beginning, begging for more and more, and arching into Arthur's fingers. Arthur concentrated on the task at hand, but with each passing second he knew he was one step closer to him and Merlin really doing this. There would be no going back. He nearly asked Merlin if he was sure he wanted this, but the tiny mewling and gasps told Arthur far more than words ever could. 

At long last Merlin was ready, or as ready as he could be. Arthur took a few deep breaths. “I need you to prop yourself on all fours like we talked about earlier.” Arthur's voice was trembling, but he couldn't help it.

“Okay.” Merlin's voice was the same as he did as Arthur asked.

Arthur waited until Merlin seemed comfortable, and when Merlin peeked over his shoulder, Arthur grinned. Merlin was beautiful. Arthur could scarcely believe that this thing between them was really about to happen. He could hear Merlin's laboured breathing and knew his was no different. He took a deep breath. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” was Merlin’s breathy reply.

The anticipation was almost too much, but Arthur forced his emotions down as he lined himself up with Merlin and began pushing in as slowly as possible. “Tell me if I’m hurting you.” Merlin was tight. Much tighter than that knight had been. 

“You don’t have to go easy on me, Arthur. I know what to expect,” Merlin said as he pushed back into Arthur, no doubt trying to speed things along.

“So glad you are the experienced one then. My only experience was a knight who wanted to have a bit of fun. I guess you and Will did this often?”

Merlin chuckled. “We both enjoyed sucking each other's cocks more than anything. Not so much the other things. Will never did allow me to enter him and he was really big and afraid he would hurt me, so we pretty much spent our nights looking at each other’s bums. But you are nowhere near as big as Will, so I know you don’t need to go slow.”

“Thanks, I think,” Arthur said in reply, not sure what to think about Merlin’s sheer honesty. He guessed it wasn’t meant to be anything other than positive, but Arthur did wonder if he was smaller than most as he decided to do as Merlin suggested and just go for it. 

He pushed in all the way and grinned when Merlin groaned beneath him. “Like that, did you?”

“Uh huh,” was Merlin’s only understandable response.

Arthur pulled out and then pushed back in. This time Merlin began mewing louder and it was the most adorable sound, one Arthur wanted to hear more of. Arthur repeated this dance of pushing in and pulling out several more times before he felt his orgasm as it built and built and built. Then it roared through him like a train. He made a comment to Merlin to warn him and he thought he heard Merlin call out Arthur’s name, but it was all a bit of a blur because when Arthur’s orgasm crashed over him, he was almost positive there was no way he could stand the ecstasy. It was nearly too much, and he hoped he had managed not to scream. In his mind he had screamed.

Once they had ceased their shaking, Arthur thought he should probably withdraw but he was enjoying being intimately connected with Merlin.

“We have got to do that again, Arthur,” Merlin said some time later, still trying to catch his breath. 

Arthur smiled. He planned on it. Every night if Merlin would allow him. “Are you warmed up now?”

Merlin’s face was still buried in the pillow but a muffled laugh burst forth.

When Arthur finally pulled out, he lay beside Merlin and pulled him onto his stomach, resting Merlin’s head in the crook of his neck. And it was then that he saw Merlin's eyes, which were a light shade of gold. He guessed they had been blazing as he'd orgasmed, which made Arthur somewhat sad that he'd completely forgotten to ask to see Merlin's eyes. He had meant to do so.

“Are my eyes still glowing?” Merlin asked as he played with the hairs on Arthur's chest.

“They are a light gold, a beautiful light gold,” he added as he brought one of Merlin's fingers to his lips and kissed it. “I'd like to see what they look like when you come.” 

"I think you will see for yourself very soon, but not now. You have worn me out, sire," Merlin said with a chuckle. 

Merlin rolled onto his side of the bed, turned over, and almost immediately began snoring.

As Arthur allowed Merlin's sweet snores, ones that sounded exactly as they had the previous night, lull him to sleep, he hoped this was a sound he'd hear every night for the rest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Merlin Holidays to everyone!


End file.
